The One With The Superpowers and Pirate Ships
by Serinity46
Summary: A veerrryyyy AU fic in which a bunch of my fave Companions have superpowers and/or are pirates and are chasing down a villain by the name of Vincent Antigua, 'Saint of the Carribean'. Probably will be femslashy in parts.


"And what kind of threat is a _telepath_," He spat the word in his own conceived superiority to the power, breathing close to her face as the barrel of his gun burrowed through her sleek black hair and pushed against the side her head. "When I already have a shape shifter and weather maker at my mercy?"

Vincent Antigua tore a glance at the unconscious blonde shape shifter, lying in one of her two natural forms on the stone floor a few feet away from where he gruffly held the dark-skinned weather maker.

"So you have no idea she's more than just telepathic…" Martha, not showing any fear at the fact that a gun was against her and her powers were rendered useless by the touch of Antigua's skin against hers, spoke to him. "She's telekinetic, too…"

Vincent gave a huff, as if this didn't matter, and tightened his grip on her, his face menacingly pressing against her own.

"She can move objects, _and_, in extreme situations," She could begin to feel beads of flushed sweat rolling off of Antigua's tanned olive skin. "Use it to manipulate light…and fire…and _heat_. They call her _inferno_."

As if on cue, the rackety wooden doors to this room of the old abbey opened touchlessly, a woman standing in the now-open doorway, her long ginger red hair blowing in all directions from the waves of heat that radiated around her, a certain fire in her eyes which were some shade in-between green, grey, light hazel, and light blue. Donna Noble; daughter of London, and yeah, kind of a superhero.

In sudden surprise, Vincent Antigua released his grip on Martha for a second, which she used to rush away from him and move to where Romana lay. With a smile, she knew that she could use her power again as he was no longer draining the hell out of it and built up a small area of frigidly cold air to cover herself and the unconscious blonde shape shifter.

"Feeling hot, 'Saint of the Caribbean'?" Donna said pointedly at Vincent Antigua as the heat in the stone-walled room continued to rise to the point of unbearably burning hot. His black hair was thickly damp with his own sweat as he floundered, fanning himself with his shirt. With a wave of her hand, she sent the stack of old wooden furniture that sat in the corner of the small room in the direction of Antigua, trying to incarcerate him. The edges of the driest pieces of furniture began to smolder in the dense dry heat.

From out of the barrel of Vincent's gun, a shot ran out. The bullet reached all of about three inches into the air, before dropping to the stony floor with a light echoing clang.

"Shooting at someone who can move stuff with their head, great plan." Donna smirked slightly at Vincent Antigua.

The man gave a look to the singeing furniture that had ceased to fly at him the moment that she'd turned her attention to something else, and shrugged.

"It's not bad." Vincent retorted, his voice a hint of a mix between an Italian and a Spanish accent, turning his gun quickly away from Donna and in the direction of Martha and Romana. "Audios, Angels."

Pulling the trigger with a bang, Antigua agilely launched himself atop a spindly desk and out of a small square window in one fluid motion, out of the room by the time the bullet was deflected away. Still stemming the heat off of herself and Romana, Martha directed a thin bolt of lightning from the sky in the direction of the window, but it was too late. Far below the window, a splash was heard.

"Damn it…" She muttered as the lightning cracked against a stone in the outline of the window.

"Ugh…he got away, _again_." Donna, looking down at the sea several stories below, saw no sign of the man in the water, although she knew he was somewhere down there, he had to be. But Vincent Antigua was also, for some bloody annoying reason, an expert swimmer/diver. Figures. She sighed in annoyance.

As she brought the temperature in the room back to its normal warm Caribbean heat (rather than the temperature of an oven on high), Martha did the same with her small chunk of the air which surrounded herself and the still-unconscious two hearted blonde, taking it back to light humid warmth instead of something polar.

"How's Romana doin'?" Donna asked, coming over to a kneel beside the other two. "And who the hell calls me 'inferno'?"

"I dunno, I just thought it sounded good…in the moment." Martha shrugged. It sounded…superhero-ish; they all had titles, from what she knew from movies and such. Well, she herself didn't…one time Romana had suggested 'The Oncoming Storm' when they were boredly trying to think up aliases for themselves, but Martha had refused on the grounds that she knew it belonged to someone else.

As she affectionately stroked Romana's hair, the Gallifreyan girl began to rouse. She opened her eyes stirringly and glanced in Martha's direction.

"Have I told you how much I hate it when you make me cold?" Romana said with a slight sly smile, lightly gripping to Martha's other arm which was not through her hair. There was definitely a certain compensation to doing all of this, Romana thought.

Getting up, Romana headed to take a look out of the high stone window of the seafront abbey herself. About ten yards away, on a docking pier, a blonde in pirate-ey clothes was running down the wooden length in surprised fury, followed closely by another girl with long, warm brown hair, the second of the two baring a knife with suspicious fury at something out on the sea. A ship…a pirate ship, by the looks of it.

"_Oi, that's my ship you're stealing!_" The trio could hear the blonde, who was about twenty or so, yell out to the departing ship.

"Is it? Don't see you're name on it." A voice rang back from the top deck of the ship…a familiar Spanish-Italian accented voice, _damn_ Antigua was fast!

"It _is_ on it! On the side, the Bad Wolf, _my ship_!" She was gesturing repeatedly towards herself at this, her expression and tone a fired fury. "Go commandeer from the Royal Navy for all I care, _but leave my ship alone_!"

Without warning, a sharp surge of electric light cracked across the tropical ocean bay to the long wooden dock.

"Rose!" The tanned brunette in skins, Leela, turned, her hair following in a whip as she saw her friend and captain, Rose, be struck in a blink by the lightning and crumple instantly. She bent by her unconscious body hurriedly checking to see if she was alive. A slight look of relief told those watching the scene take place from the abbey window that the pirate girl was in fact just as alive as Romana had been.

Martha's expression was horrorstruck…she had _not_ done that, there was no way, ever. A sudden forced wind picked up and swept across the bay, letting the stolen pirate ship pick up a good deal of steam as a thick fog began to swirl and conceal it from view.

"He can still do it when he's not touching you…that's new." Romana squinted through the fog that swirled about the sea, but could not see anything ship-like. She could however, see the two on the pier, the one named Rose still unmoving.

In a rush, the three, Donna, Martha, and Romana, headed out through the thickly hinged open wooden door and in the direction of the docking pier not far from the stone abbey.


End file.
